Burning Sands

by Arthur E. P. Brome Weigall

  CHAPTER VI--TOWARDS THE SUNSET

  During the warm weather an afternoon siesta is habitual to the residentsin Egypt, and Muriel at once lent her support to the custom withundisguised approval. This was but her third day in Cairo, yet, as soonas Daniel Lane had taken his departure, she went up to her room asthough to the manner born, and slipped off her dress.

  The bed looked cool and inviting, and a mass of white roses upon a tablebeside her pillow spread a gentle fragrance through the room; but thisshe thoughtlessly dissipated by lighting a Turkish cigarette. She didnot particularly want to smoke, but she felt that the little gold-tippedcigarette was in keeping with her state of dainty semi-undress, with hersomewhat exotic surroundings, and with the French novel which she hadselected as an inducement to sleep.

  Anybody peeping at her through the keyhole as she lay upon the rose-budcoverlet, bare arms and silk-stockinged legs asprawl, would have beenhard put to it to decide whether here rested the girlish chastity ofEnglish tradition or the naughtiness of French fiction; for nowadays,when the one has had the hardihood at last to claim its share of thehabiliments of the other, appearances are astonishingly deceptive.Actually, however, Muriel was but an innocent production of that form ofupbringing which, while encouraging independence of action, accustomsthe minds to the standards of the seraglio.

  She had moved freely in the segment of London society which patronizesCovent Garden, hobnobs with the stage, and becomes ecstatic over thelatest painter, sculptor, poet, or dancer. She had been shown all thelittle vices and failings of the world in their most attractive guise;and for her special edification the ancient virtues had been renderedeven more seemingly ridiculous than the virtuous themselves had madethem. Obediently she had laid her thoughtless tribute at the altar ofthe alluring goddess of today; and she had been shown the correctposture of obeisance that was to be made to the World, the Flesh, andthe Devil.

  She had been taught, if she had not actually mastered, all the shortcuts to that appearance of culture which is so highly appraised; and, inmatters of taste and form, she had been shown how to be bizarre withoutbeing crude, audacious without being vulgar. She knew just what to sayabout men of letters, and what books to leave lying about the room; andin regard to politics, the church, and sport, she had been shown how tolump the three together under the one heading of "Tradition."

  It was now three years since this part of her education had begun; andyet she had passed through the school with a surprisingly unsulliedmind. Like most pupils of her age, she was, of course, in completeoutward subjection to Mistress Fashion; but a spirit of mutiny stillplotted in the dark chambers of her heart.

  She had not yet altogether stupefied herself into that chronic semblanceof light-heartedness which passes for happiness; and there were momentswhen in inward revolt she sent her entire circle of friends to blazes.At such times she was vaguely aware that, in some subtle manner, she wasin bondage; but so carefully had she been trained to wear her goldenchains with grace that the fleeting consciousness of their presenceinduced little more than an extra yawn or two, and a more luxuriousenjoyment of any opportunity to kick up her heels.

  As she lay now upon the bed, she was not conscious of any lack offreedom in her life, and yet she was profoundly happy to be out here inEgypt, where the day's routine was not so hide-bound as it was inEngland.

  The drone of the flies and the plaintive cry of the circling kites, theincessant cawing of the crows in the garden, and the occasional song ofthe boatmen on the Nile, soon lulled her to sleep; and it was fouro'clock before she arose to dress herself for her ride with RupertHelsingham. When she descended the stairs half an hour later, she waswearing a new riding-habit of white linen and a wide-brimmed felt hat inwhich she was conscious of appearing at her best.

  Rupert, too, who awaited her at the tea-table in the drawing-room, wasaware of his own becoming costume; and the spurs upon his highlypolished boots clicked more frequently than was necessary. He wascertainly good-looking, if somewhat undersized.

  "I've told them to meet us with the horses on the other side of thewater," he said. "We'll go across in the launch, which will save a longround by the bridge."

  After a hasty cup of tea, therefore, they walked through the garden tothe landing-steps, and were soon speeding over the river in the glare ofthe afternoon sun, the cloudless heavens above them and theswift-flowing waters of the ancient Nile shining beneath.

  They landed amidst the cool shade of the palms on the opposite bank,near a road along which many native carriages and English dogcarts werepassing to and fro, this being the fashionable hour for taking the air;and many curious eyes were turned upon the immaculate couple as theymounted their horses, for the white launch with its little Union Jack atthe stern, and the scarlet livery of the native attendants, revealedtheir identity, and Lady Muriel's charms had already become a topic ofgeneral conversation.

  "Which way would you like to go?" asked Rupert. "By the native roadsacross the fields, or straight along the main road out to Mena House?"

  Muriel looked quickly at him. "Mena House?" she said. "Isn't that on theedge of the desert, where Mr. Lane said he was starting from?"

  Her companion nodded. "Yes," he answered. "We would probably run intohim. Shall we go the other way?"

  Muriel drew rein for a moment. She would like to take her first viewover that garden wall of which Daniel Lane had spoken, and it might beinteresting to watch him ride away towards the setting sun. She mighteven have an opportunity of firing a parting shot at him--somethingabout his rumoured harim of Bedouin women to whom he seemed so anxiousto return. She would like to hurt him.

  "No, let's go to Mena House," she answered at length, and she gave asher reason her anxiety to see the Pyramids which stand on the edge ofthe desert, dominating the well-known Mena House Hotel.

  Rupert looked at his watch. "It's nearly five," he remarked, without anyparticular reason. He was not thinking of the hour of Daniel Lane'sdeparture.

  But Muriel was thinking of it, and, for answer, she urged her horseforward.

  "I enjoy a good long gallop, don't you?" she said, as they turned intothe avenue of acacias which runs in a fine straight line out to thedesert, flanked by a riding-track of soft earth.

  "It's a bit hot for anything strenuous, isn't it?" he suggested. Hewanted to ride quietly and talk to her as they went.

  For some distance they trotted in silence, but at length Murielshortened her rein. "Come in!" she laughed, and therewith she gave herrestless Arab a touch with her heel, and instantly was off and away in acloud of dust, as though she and her horse had been discharged in onepiece from some monstrous gun.

  Rupert swore peevishly, and followed in her wake, presently overtakingher and galloping by her side. The tree-trunks on either hand seemed towhirl past them, and the foliage, which met overhead, formed a sort oftunnel pierced at one side by stabbing shafts of dazzling sunlight. Theeffect was blinding, and soon Rupert, an excellent horseman, began tofeel as though he were the maddened villain of some flickering film ofthe Wild West, whose career had soon to end in a frightful tumble.

  "Isn't it lovely?" shouted Muriel, ecstatically. Her blood seemed to beboiling in her veins; she glowed like a fiery immortal being, full oftremendous excitement and enthusiasm. This was life!--this was youth!She dragged her hat over her eyes, regardless of her own appearance,regardless of the hat's. She felt entirely crazy, and presumably herhorse felt the same, for not for a moment did he slacken his thunderingspeed. The warm wind whistled in her ears; occasional roadside villasappeared to whirl past almost as soon as they were sighted; anautomobile, full of gesticulating Egyptians, raced them and haddifficulty in beating them; the electric tram from the Pyramids to Cairoappeared to leap past them with wildly clanging bell; she caught suddenglimpses of peasant carts and an occasional smart carriage, astonishedbrown faces and smiling white ones. Her hair began to come down.

  At last her horse had had enough, and his gallop decreased to a trot,his trot to a walk. H
er companion turned a laughing red face to her. Hehad caught the infection of her spirits, and, like her, was conscious ofa burning sense of youth and strength. The perspiration was streamingdown his cheeks.

  "Phew!" he exclaimed, and recklessly mopped his forehead with a colouredsilk handkerchief intended only for a breast-pocket ornament. "D'youoften get taken like that?"

  Muriel laughed excitedly, and, twisting the reins around her arm, pulledoff her hat, thereby letting loose a tumbling mass of brown hair, whichfell about her shoulders. Then, handing the hat to Rupert to hold, sheraised her hands and coiled up the hair on to her head again, fasteningit with the few remaining hairpins.

  Rupert uttered an ordinary, vulgar whistle. He, too, had been gallopedinto naturalness. "By Jove!" he cried. "You have got glorious hair!"

  Muriel settled her hat upon her head once more, and picked up her reins.

  "I'll let it down properly for you some day," she said. At that momentshe would have stood on her head, had anybody dared her to do so. A lawshould be passed prohibiting women from galloping.

  "I'll kiss you if you do," replied Rupert. The law should, perhaps,include young men as well.

  He was startled at his audacity; but Muriel was not in a mentalcondition to do otherwise than laugh.

  Thus they arrived, like two flushed children, at the end of the road,the hotel on their right, the mighty Pyramids rising up like hand-mademountains on their left, backed by the descending sun. In front of themstretched the desert--a ridge of white and yellow shelving rocks, andgreat shadowed slopes of sand mounting to the clear sky. Southwards, atthe foot of the hills, stood a native village, the clustered whitehouses and dignified groups of palms reflected in the still waters ofthe inundation which, at this time of the year, cover the surroundingfields.

  Outside the hotel several Bedouin dragomans sauntered about or satsmoking and chatting; and a few camels and donkeys, saddled in readinessfor hire, stood tethered near by.

  Muriel hardly glanced at the Pyramids: they had been visible to herthrough the trees during most of the ride, and they were just as she hadpictured them. But the Bedouin in their flowing silks, the betasselledcamels, and the background of the desert made a picture which delightedher eyes.

  "What's the time?" she asked. "I wonder if he has gone."

  It was some seconds before Rupert took her meaning: he had forgottenabout Daniel Lane. He looked at his watch: it was half-past five.

  "I'll ask some of these fellows if they've seen him," he said, perhaps alittle put out. A shadow had fallen upon the gay opening scene of hisromance.

  He rode forward, and soon elicited the information that "the Englishmanwho came in from the desert" had but a few minutes ago gone up the hillto the rocky plateau above, where his camels were awaiting him.

  "We've missed him," he said, returning to her. "He's just gone."

  "Well, let's ride after him," she answered, and without further remarkshe trotted up the short, winding road which led on to the higherground. Rupert followed her, musing upon the inscrutable ways of women.

  The road lay in the shadow of the hillside, but as they reached thesummit they came into the full glare of the setting sun which was nownearing the distant horizon. On their left the Pyramids towered up intothe blazing sky, but before them the rock-strewn plateau lay open andvast, and over it the wind blew warm and mysterious.

  Muriel arched her hand above her eyes and looked about her.

  "There he is!" she cried at length, directing her companion to a littlegroup in a sandy hollow about a hundred yards distant, and therewiththey both trotted forward.

  Daniel Lane was about to mount his camel as they approached. Murielwaved her hand to him, whereat he pulled off his well-worn hat andlaughed aloud.

  "That's odd!" he said. "I had a sort of feeling you'd come."

  Muriel stared at him, and her responding smile died upon her lips.

  "We rode in this direction quite at random," said she, coldly. "I don'tyet know one way from another."

  "Well, you've found your way to the desert quickly enough," he replied."You know there are some people who seem to be drawn towards it atonce."

  Muriel glanced about her. "I think it looks a horrid place," she said,which was entirely untruthful. "I don't feel at all drawn to it."

  She turned to Rupert Helsingham. He was slowly riding round the fourcamels which crouched, grunting, on the sand, in charge of two lean andwild-looking men of the desert, whose appearance was strikinglydifferent from that of the Bedouin of the Pyramids, grown prosperous intheir profession as guides and dragomans to the sightseers. Three of thecamels were saddled, the seat in each case being covered by a roughsheepskin, and having on either side a coarsely embroidered bagcontaining food, while a rifle and two water-bottles were slung acrossthe back. The fourth camel, which was to be led by one of the riders,was lightly laden with stores and various purchases made in Cairo, andtwo small water-skins depended at its sides.

  "I travel light, you see," said Daniel, as Rupert returned to them.

  "Yes, you couldn't otherwise have come in at the pace you did," heanswered. "Are you going back at the same rate?"

  Daniel laughed. "Oh, no," he said. "I shall travel in easy stages,taking five or six days probably--as long as the food lasts, in fact. Wecan pick up water at the wells, and if we shoot anything we can take itstill slower."

  Muriel looked curiously at him. "Then why were you in such a hurry to beoff?" she asked.

  "One night in a Cairo hotel is enough for me," he answered. "I'mstarting now so as to get ten or fifteen miles away by bedtime, where Ican sleep peacefully on the clean sand, away from mosquitoes and badsmells and noise. And then we can just saunter. So long as we plan toreach a water-hole every two days, there's nothing to hurry us."

  He turned towards the sunset and breathed in the pure air with evidentsatisfaction. "It's splendid to think there's all that empty space infront of one!" he exclaimed. "In a few minutes now I shall be swallowedup in it! Gee! I'll think of you tonight, my girl, in your stuffybedroom; and you can envy me lying under God's heaven, talking with mytwo good friends here about cities and slavery and civilization andthings, till we yawn ourselves to sleep."

  Muriel's interest in him began to revive. "It sounds wonderful," shesaid, doubtfully.

  The sun had sunk behind the low line of the horizon when at lengthDaniel bid good-bye and mounted his camel. Rupert, who was impatient tobe back, had already turned his horse's head and was slowly moving awayas the four camels, snarling and complaining in their wonted manner,rose upon their long legs, lifting their riders high above the ground;but Muriel remained for a moment or two, curbing her restless horse,while Daniel looked down at her from his lofty seat.

  "I've enjoyed meeting you," he said. "I'm afraid you think I'm very rudeand rough. I don't mean to be, only--"

  "Only what?" she asked, as he paused.

  "Yes?" She was all attention now.

  "Only when I meet a girl like you--"

  "Oh, I don't know," he said, and there came a look of great earnestnessinto his eyes. "There's so much you've got to unlearn, my dear."

  He struck his camel lightly with his stick, and trotted away. Then,turning in his saddle, he put his hand to his mouth and called out toher: "Why don't you break loose?"

  Muriel made a gesture indicating that she did not understand, but hishead was again averted, and he did not look round. She watched him, as,followed by the men, he slid silently away into the barren vastness ofthe desert. He seemed to be riding straight into the glory of thesunset.

  Then she wheeled her horse around, and cantered after her companion. Faroff in front of her now the city was spread out amongst its trees andluxuriant fields. From the high ground she looked down on distant roofsof palaces and mansions, domes and cupolas, minarets and towers, and thelights began to twinkle in the windows along the embankment of the Nile.It looked like an enticing magic City of Happiness; and she glanced overher shoulder with a sudden wave of terror at
the darkening immensity ofthe desert behind.